two ghosts in one mirror
by Incendiarist
Summary: It's the thought that counts. /BrucexLoki. TW: everything./


_Oh, look, another Norsekink fill._

_#insert 'stddisclaimer.h'_

* * *

**_two ghosts in one mirror_**

_by_ Incendiarist

* * *

_Maybe god can be on both sides of the gun._

* * *

He isn't sure what's going on; whatever odd struggle going on between Loki and his "ally" (the scarequotes slip easily into place in his internal narration; Loki´s so-called alliances are more assisted suicides, or perhaps simple idiocy. Loki doesn't _do_ alliances, he's the god of mischief and chaos, and backstabbing is sort of his modus operandi) is one he isn't privy to, but which seems to stem from an argument rather than boredom on the part of the alien god, which is somewhat of a shock. Most of those Loki works with are hopelessly, _hopelessly_ outmatched, only taken on because of that tiny spark of empathy which occasionally flares in the dark recesses of whatever passes for his soul. He likes the lost causes, and Bruce thinks it's because he sees himself in them, the weak, broken creatures thrown into a world far too harsh, where those breaks are never allowed to set properly — Loki, from what vague pictures (faded sepia, were they literal; he comes from another time, another _world_, one Bruce will never be able to understand) of his upbringing Bruce has collected through tales from Thor, and from more sleepless nights than he's really like to admit, wherein, lacking anything else better to do, he plays the armchair psychologist, well. Loki is.

(Loki is himself.)

It's far from a pretty picture that the tales paint, and Thor's blind retellings only help to show that more. He is different (monster), unwanted (argr), untrustworthy.

(The word of the jötnar means nothing.)

(And then they wonder why he lies.)

If Bruce has a tendency to over-identify and to project, he's the only one who'll know, and it isn't even a conscious understanding, being able to look at Loki and say "I know you", but an uneasy feeling in his stomach when they fight. Loki is so different when he's fighting them from when he's being held in the cage meant for the Hulk.

(The last is what makes it all make sense, in retrospect, and Bruce will feel ill.)

It makes Bruce feel better about himself, in some fucked-up way, to compare his own psyche to what he imagines some megalomaniacal villain's must be; he is a monster, yes, but not in the same way Loki is.

(Bruce wasn't the Hulk _all along_, and wasn't raised being told of how evil they were, _he_ was.)

And he never stops to think that they might be more alike than he thinks.

* * *

That will change soon enough.

* * *

It's a flash of light and he's suddenly fighting to stay on his feet; it feels like he's been hit with Mjölnir, and he's shrinking down, anger replaced with an odd sort of apathy; he's angry, he's _always_ angry, except now he_ isn't_ and the emptiness threatens to swallow him whole.

His eyes flit to the god, who has a sword (which wasn't there before, Bruce is sure) and is currently using it to skewer (so like a shish kebab, and isn't it strange how his mind runs when he's stressed, because it returns to the dinner of shawarma they'd had in the ruins of New York; Bruce had picked the meat out only eaten the lafah, and has since developed a certain fondness for amba, which is unfortunate, because Clint thinks it makes him smell like rot) his now-former ally, looking...

Bruce has never seen this look.

He doesn't like it.

(And he tries to shut down his brain entirely when he finds himself wondering if Loki will like amba, and if maybe they can have lafah together.)

* * *

It's pain, more than there was when Bruce first became the Hulk (expanding inhumanly, his muscles bulking up in seconds when it should have taken decades, his skin stretching like rubber, too tight to contain him).

He can feel his face melting, literally _melting_, and he reaches up and feels bone.

But there's no blood on his hands.

He's held by chains that aren't there and don't affect him, and he feels _slimywarmwet_ against his bare skin—

* * *

He knows this myth.

He knows this myth, and he's going to vomit.

* * *

Where is Sigyn?

* * *

She doesn't show, and it feels like hoursdays_years_ before he's torn from the

memory(?)

Is that what it is?

* * *

Oh, _fuck_.

* * *

It's only moments, so he figures he ought to be grateful for that, at least.

Even if he's reliving the memories of the Mother of Monsters.

* * *

He didn't sign up for this shit.

* * *

"So what you're telling me is that Banner and Loki are, what,_ soul-bound_?" Fury, so incredulous that there really ought to be another word for it.

Thor solemnly explains that, no, it's not a soul-bond, they aren't _married_, but rather blah blah connection blah magical something-or-other blah.

Bruce is completely lost.

On the plus side, Selvig's exited questioning of what, exactly, all of that meant, if there was an equation he could see, and a million other things (he's babbling at a kilometre a minute, like a five-year-old telling a friend about their new puppy), seem to have Thor just as confused. So, hey, at least he's not getting outsmarted by a guy who still can't use a goddamn _toaster_.

(Selvig is _way_ too happy.)

Loki is asleep (unconscious, actually, thanks to a specialty arrow of Hawkeye's finding its mark while it was in the midst of a BSoD), and on an uncomfortable-looking metal cot in the Hulk cage.

(Bruce doesn't know why he suddenly cares about how _comfortable_ Loki is, and he isn't sure he wants to.)

In any case, he's not thinking, and so Bruce has his thoughts to himself for the moment. He casts his mind back to earlier, just before the...

Before the memory.

(And he won't think about, he won't think about it, absolutely not.)

The two (and he doesn't even know Loki's former ally's name) were fighting. Screaming, really. Bruce didn't know the language, but it sounded vaguely European.

(Because that narrowed it down _so much_.)

It was raining, not enough to be a bother, but enough to give Bruce's pants splotches of darker colour, and they were still screaming at each-other, and then the mystery woman raised her hand, arm stretched out in an incantation.

And then the flash of light and the emptiness and the memory.

(The rain. The rain falling and the drip of poison and his face was _melting_—)

He's not-married to a batshit sorcerer god with PTSD.

Oh, _joy_.

* * *

«You are afraid, Dr. Banner. Of what? Yourself?»

Bruce wants to smack him, something, anything, so long as he just shuts up. Hadn't magic ever heard of privacy?

If he'd been married in Asgard, his spouse would have been dead within hours.

(But Loki is still in the cage, and he's sitting regally on the metal cot, proper posture accompanied by the little smirk which said "I'm in control of this situation", and Bruce can't touch him.)

«Temper, temper,» chides Loki. «Really, Dr. Banner, I would have thought you had better control of yourself. Though that might explain your fear,» he continues thoughtfully. «You do not truly know yourself, do not know how you will react in a given situation. So you are afraid.» He raises an eyebrow at the security camera. «Am I right?» and it's phrased like a question but it isn't one, not really.

«You bullshit a lot of stuff, don't you?» thinks Bruce, pointedly, at Loki. It´s not necessary, but if Loki is going to treat this like a completely normal conversation, wherein _vocal cords_ are used and _sounds_ are made, then so will he. It's less weird than it seeming as though Loki is reading his mind.

(Even if that is, technically speaking, what he's doing even now.)

«I wonder what would happen if we pumped you up with truth serum? Would you keep quiet, because you would be unable to tell a lie?» He doesn't bother to mask the hope in his thoughts.

«Ah,» says Loki, «I should think that a god of lies made unable to make one would be a rather cruel fate.» His eyes are practically _sparkling_ with amusement. «It is also paradoxical,» he continues cheerfully, for so much as a thought can be cheerful. «Your so-called truth serums would have no effect on me,» and Bruce doesn't trust him any further than he could throw him.

* * *

Sleeping and being knocked out via horse tranquilliser are apparently two different things.

* * *

At least one of them is getting rest.

* * *

(Except that's cruel, because Loki isn't, not really.)

* * *

It's a night terror.

Bruce didn't know gods got those. Well. Until now.

(And Bruce feels absolutely horrid, because off-hand thoughts referencing horse tranquillisers seem to have caused them.)

* * *

It wasn't his fault. Not really.

He might have suggested it, but he was just a kid, and Odin _agreed_, so you'd think Mr. I Gave Up My Eye For Wisdom would take the blame.

Apparently to tell a teenager to "fix it", on pain of death, was totally alright in Asgard.

* * *

Or maybe that was just because nobody liked Loki.

* * *

Sick. Sick and overtired and feeling violated and then feeling guilty about feeling violated because Loki has to deal with the same thing, and all of, of _this_ to boot.

Bruce's dad was practically Father of the Year compared to Odin. Compared to the _king of the gods_.

* * *

Frankly, Bruce is amazed Loki lasted as long as he did.

* * *

There´s more, of course. So very much more.

* * *

Bruce has tasted a witch's heart, has felt the blood pour down his face and arms, knows the consistency perfectly.

It had tasted _good_.

(_Monster_, whispers a voice in his head, unbidden, and Loki doesn't look at him for the rest of the day.)

* * *

Magic scares him.

It's beautiful and it's miraculous and it fucking _terrifies_ him.

* * *

A little girl is stillborn, and yet she walks.

(_Wrong_, says the voice in his head, yet unbidden.)

* * *

Four months now, and it's all changed and no-one is entirely sure how it happened.

* * *

But a second god fighting on their side, one with a direct link into the Hulk's head? That was a good thing, and they weren't begrudging it.

* * *

It was a lot less terrifying than a god with a direct link into the Hulk's head fighting _against_ them.

* * *

And it isn't perfect, not at all, but they're working together and less people are dying and Loki is really not all that different from them, it's just red in his ledger, and maybe he's not trying to make up for it, but he's making up for it all the same.

* * *

And they aren't together, no matter what the tabloids suggest.

* * *

Well.

They _are_.

* * *

Eventually.

* * *

Sort of.

* * *

It's the thought that counts.

(And it leaves them both blushing.)

* * *

**fin.**


End file.
